User blog comment:Biggren/The Mice of Wintor/@comment-5343292-20120812192729/@comment-25220117-20120904150602

''Tearing the knife from his flesh, and carefully wiping it upon his corpse, she sheathed it and, as if just remembering, pulled him into the bushes. You never know when his clothes or, she gave a gleeful chuckle, his teeth, could come in handy. Wiping her paws on her tunic, and not making it any cleaner, she turned towards the village, seeking any news of the soldiers' obvious victory, purposefully stepping upon Grivvil's face as she left, removing one of his weapons as a second thought''